Sunday school obfuscations

I liked going to church when I was little because I’d see my friends and I liked, to some extent, dressing up once a week. I didn’t like listening to the sermons in the early part of the morning, before we broke up for classes, and Mama was always telling me to sit still, which didn’t seem necessary to me [...]

April 23rd, 2019|

Water baby

The first actual full-sized deep-water swimming pool I encountered was the Russells’ (not their real name) pool next door to my best friend Daralyn’s house, when I was about eight.   (This is not counting the ten-inch-deep wading pool complete with metal seats in the corners, that Daralyn’s aunt had in her driveway for us kids, where we made up water [...]

April 9th, 2019|

The deadly tent peg

One of the many physical mishaps of my childhood, given I fell frequently, was the run-in with The Deadly Tent Peg, when I was around seven or eight. My best friend Daralyn’s brothers had set up a tent in their back yard, three houses down the block from our home. A bunch of us kids were playing some game where [...]

March 26th, 2019|

The Only Big Car Trip with My Parents

Being six in 1954 was eventful. In the summer, my dad piled the three of us into our 1953 two-toned green DeSoto, full of the aroma of new car. We headed out to see my paternal grandmother, aunts and cousin in Texas, where my dad was born and raised, and then Utah, where my mother spent her middle childhood and [...]

February 6th, 2019|

Weird foot

In my junior year at art college, I took psychedelic drugs from time to time.  I lived with a fellow artist in Oakland for a while, an ex-boyfriend who also played in a bluegrass band, so there was always a lot of social life and artistic temperament floating around the house.  On one such “trip”, I was sitting in my [...]

January 5th, 2019|

Mean Boys

When I was a young teenager in the early sixties, visiting my older sister one summer, my eight-year-old niece and I were crossing a broad street in Sacramento on a hot afternoon, dressed in shorts and nice cotton blouses, on our way to a park. There had been a lot of traffic and we finally took off from the curb [...]

December 27th, 2018|

What do you call a crip?

People ask me whether I think we as a group should be called “handicapped,” “disabled,” “differently-abled,” or “physically challenged.”  And I’m sure there are other labels or euphemisms for “crippled” or “paralyzed” (or for abnormal mental processes).  Two of those terms are really a mouthful.  I like handicapped best, because it is absolutely true.  I no longer mind being referred [...]

December 11th, 2018|

You’re handicapped; you must be old

Frequently when young people see me walk with a cane, they treat me like I am a really old person – which was weird when it happened in my 30’s and 40’s, when I looked like I was in my 20’s and 30’s.  There is a bit of a differentiation between being treated like you are handicapped and being treated [...]

November 28th, 2018|
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